


Not a Perfect Night

by cassiel0uwho



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, but i like it, i don't know what this is really, maybe i'll continue it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiel0uwho/pseuds/cassiel0uwho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't really know where this came from. I kind of like it. I do want to continue it. I have a plot it mind. I guess it's kind of an overview of their relationship so far. It's also almost four in the morning, so sorry for the mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from. I kind of like it. I do want to continue it. I have a plot it mind. I guess it's kind of an overview of their relationship so far. It's also almost four in the morning, so sorry for the mistakes.

It had been four years since the fall and subsequent rise of Shield, and Jemma, for the most part, could say her life was safer. Or rather, her risk taking wasn't as it used to be. Still, she went on the Bus when it was required. When there was something out there unknown just begging to be discovered. Jemma still enjoyed it; a part of her always would. She also enjoyed creating new agents through the Academy. Hopefully, preventing bad seeds from spreading. It also allowed her to do research and make break troughs on the side. 

Jemma had stayed on the field with her team, which was more family than anything, for a year after Hydra's rising. Under Coulson's orders, she helped supervise the small reforming research and development division. That first year had been difficult. Too many obstacles. Too many unknowns. No one knew if Fitz would make it. Even if he did, the potential damage to his brain was threatening. It was not an easy year. If it hadn't been for the team, she wondered what she'd be like now. There had been a rough patch. Fitz's condition had been grim and trying to win back public opinion for Shield as they dealt with other forces wore the biochemist down. It was the closest to “mad scientist' territory Jemma got to. Her sleep was lacking. Only pausing for it when her exhaustion blurred her vision and made her movements uncoordinated. There wasn't even a specific goal in mind. She just new that she wanted to make some one pay. Which was ultimately Ward, but Jemma didn't spare him many thoughts those days. No, Jemma blamed the whole of Hydra. Anything that helped weakened them, Jemma started to agree too. Her days of being more accepting, to seeing someone's circumstances, had passed. It was the Team who intervened. Each in their little ways. Skye and Trip worked on getting Jemma out of the lab at reasonable hours. May was just sort of always there when she needed it the most. Though, Jemma wasn't even aware of it. Coulson, Jemma suspected now looking back, just tried to keep from what happened to May from occurring to her. May had more resilience to her. The path Jemma had been heading down was not nearly as healthy.

It took patience from all parties involved, but her rougher edges did fade away. Skye, despite Jemma disagreeing, chalked the recovery up to Fitz's waking up. Which it wasn't. He woke up a few weeks after the definite change in Jemma. The waking up was the good part. The loss in motor control and function wasn't. It hurt to see the pain in his eyes. His brain was still there functioning- whirling away with life and ideas- just as it had always done. Only Fitz could barely speak at the best times. Walking and simple movements were barely possible with out the assistance of others. They all hated it. Jemma took a month of furlough. There wasn't much she couldn't get done with wanting to know how his physical therapy and treatments were going. Fitz needed her, and Jemma was determined to be there for her best friend. She did have to bring a project with her. At least it gave her something to do when she was left to wait while they ran tests. It wasn't an easy project, and at times it was a bit sickening. The biochemist tried to be as objective as she could. It wasn't easy. Not at all. Reading the file of a brain washed ex-Russian assassin was not an easy thing. 

The medical files were read first. Almost exclusively. Unfortunately, as the programming started to falter, she had to read deeper into the file. It was hard to tell what was a mission statement and what was a medical update. They had bled together. Her skin crawled, and certain nights she couldn't sleep from it. The possibility that it may help the man in question was the only thing that kept her going. Though, Jemma wished Rogers would be able to track him sooner than later. There was only so long Jemma could handle reading the file. 

Fitz's recovery was slow going. Painfully slow. It was a blessing and a curse that he remembered their final moments. Jemma had been under the impression that he hadn't. The engineer hadn't mentioned anything. She had asked if he did, but he had given non-answers. Jemma told him the truth. There was no way around it. Or avoiding it. Telling him how she felt had been hard. Fitz loved her, but she didn't love him like that. Her feelings weren't romantic. She loved him just as he loved her, but in a different sense. Her not returning the romantic love didn't mean Jemma loved him less. To her surprise-she had been slightly worried of his reaction- Fitz accepted how she felt. It was a bit tense their last two weeks before she left. Despite her attempts to deny it, they were a bit changed. Not just from their admittance, but his injuries. It took a while for their old habits to reappear. 

Once she was back on the team, the file was forgotten. Not intentionally. Buried by new cases. She'd done as much as work as she could. There were times when the file was completely forgotten. Sometimes the night mares stopped bothering her. The file wasn't brought up again till two months into her position at the Academy. The biochemist had at one point known Rodgers. During his recovery, they got along easily. She barely had a chance to see him after the rise of Hydra. Though, during her month furlough, the texted back and forth. Mostly on his progress of tracking Barnes. Seeing him at her door while she was dressed in pjs was the last thing she thought of. But sure enough, he had information on Barnes. Jemma refused to calm him the Winter Soldier in her head and Bucky was just too personal. A week later and the aforementioned man was sitting in her lab.

Jemma was surprised out how well they got a long. As long as she tried to not focus on the file or the metal arm-she eyed quite a lot. Barnes didn't mention the arm, he brought her fear.

“It's alright, Simmons.” He said. His eyes cast downwards. “I know you read it. You flinch easily.”

Jemma was quiet as he spoke. Her movements were kept slow around him to keep from triggering memories better left untouched. Flinching, well, she hadn't realized she was doing so.

“It's okay to be scared of me. I'm scared of myself most of the times.”

She shook her head. Jemma honestly wasn't. Absurd as it was, she wasn't scared. From what she gathered from their first meeting, the flashes of memories, headaches, slight relapses in programming had started to decrease. So far, memories were triggered and that could be managed. His mood swings were a different story. As well, when he would shut down. It was the only way Jemma could describe the behavior. She suspected it was the programming trying to reassert itself. Barnes would stop what ever he was doing. Either pausing like a statue of holing up in a corner and would space out. His eyes often glassy and far away. Jemma's sole purpose was to make sure the program wouldn't reassert itself. Helping with the other symptoms would be a plus side.

“I'm not.” Her voice was shaky so she repeated it. “I'm not scared of you, Barnes.”

“Call me Bucky.” There was the tiniest hint of a smile.

They had monthly meetings, though she saw him whenever he had an episode. When she got a text from Steve, and not Bucky she had been concerned. Steve hadn't taken as many missions with Barnes left behind. He did this time. Barnes usually did a good job of reporting his episodes. He had one a few days ago. The possibility of another one concerned her. 

[text]: Simmons, I know this is a lot to ask, but Bucky isn't answering his phone. I'm sure he's fine, but I'd feel better knowing what he's up to.

Jemma texted him back to let him know it was no problem. She stopped to grab mint chocolate chip ice cream from the fridge. Barnes was given a dorm room at the Ops Academy; a plusher one away from people. Rogers probably had something to do with it. The walk took about ten minutes; the different academies were closer now. Their rivalry still existed, but being closer fostered peace. 

She pounded on the door. It was opened in less than a minute. 

“Simmons?” His hair was disheveled, but Barnes's eyes weren't glassy. A good sign.

“Sorry. You weren't answering your phone. Steve was worried.” Jemma told him.

He glanced back into his room. “That old thing. I don't like the phone.”

She laughed. Barnes, since their few months of knowing each other, was not the biggest fan of tech. He could navigate it fairly well, but anything heat sensitive he despised. 

Holding up the ice cream, she spoke. “Well, I haven't had the chance to actually enjoy this. I thought you might have had another episode and needed cheering up. I'm also not leaving till you eat something. I hope you like mint.”

They ended up chatting on the couch long after they'd eaten. 

“Simmons?” Barnes asked from the kitchen. He'd gone to clean up.

“Yeah.” She was sitting on the couch watching.

“I feel kind of odd calling you Simmons. I know you're name is Jemma, but I don't think I've seen people call you that. Ever So, is there something I can call you? Like a nick name?”

Jemma shrugged. Her only nickname was Fitzsimmons. Which wasn't exactly just hers. “No. I usually just go by Simmons.”

'What about Doc?”

Jemma agreed. She didn't think it would stick,. It did.

Their appointments as doctor and patient ended after seven months. Jemma had tried a few therapies, but it would be something he'd have to live with. Eating proper meals and sleeping helped a lot, but those things didn't come naturally to him. They still saw each other, though. The night of mint chocolate ice cream started a chain of events. They'd switch who brought dessert, and Jemma started showing movies and shows she liked. Bucky didn't always like them, but it made it fun. Even when he didn't like it, he'd grin and bear it. Usually, Jemma would turn it off and let him choose.

Skye started poking fun. The hacker constantly insisted she had something for the former assassin. Jemma vowed they were just friends. Skye's logic was friends like the two of them didn't go to each other when they had night mares with out doing it. It had been once that Jemma had made the ten minute trek to his dorm room. Fitz, almost back to normal, tried to not act as jealous as he had been with Trip. He gave the go ahead as long as he got to the see arm. It seemed that a lot of people just assumed they were a thing. Even agent Weaver mentioned off hand after a presentation. Jemma denied their claims till -surprise, surprise- Bucky asked her out to a “proper date”. Even after their dinner date, Jemma denied their claims. Only their one dinner date turned into two, and their movie nights continued. In truth, Jemma didn't know what they were. Till she kissed him. The biochemist couldn't stand it any more. They were definitely something, and she was perfectly okay with being more than just friends. It was shy peck of the lips and she was pulling away as soon as she had done it. Bucky had pulled away to stare at her. Jemma was half convinced she had completely misread things. She was about to open her mouth and apologize when he pulled her back and kissed her properly. 

The next time Skye asked, she left it at they were dating. Not a couple, but something. It never really felt like they were doing something different, except for the few dates out. They enjoyed each others company. It didn't seem to matter what they were doing. Being in each others presence usually made the other feel calmer. Jemma didn't realize she loved him till he was whisked away on a mission with Steve. It was a bit of cliche, but Jemma didn't realize how much him being her life made such a difference. Jemma could function on her own, but he truly did make her happy. Jemma didn't think it would end up a serious relationship. Or as serious as it had become. Moving in, after a year of being together, seemed like logical step. It took two months to find a place they could both agree on. Jemma wanted something close the Academy with still a bit of distance. Bucky wasn't as clear in what he wanted. It was hard to agree on a place. Luckily, they found a nicely spaced two bed room apartment. Bucky loved it and it was only a twenty minute drive to the Academy. 

Moving in was fine. They found placed for their combined items. Neither were entirely to picky about the colors. And Jemma left it up to Bucky. She was a bit surprised to the cleanness of it all while still looking lively. Mainly grays, black, and white with hints of color simple furniture. It fit both of them well. She didn't think living together would be that different. It was. A little. Bucky twenty four/seven was thrilling except for when it wasn't. She had learned to deal with the mood swings. They were always worse after a mission, worse when he was hurt. Jemma wanted to nurture and heal, but after the third mood swing Jemma told him his words (always some form of self-hating) were useless and let him be. After a few hours of solitude, he slipped a kiss on her cheek with an apology. Their four months of living with each other wasn't perfect. He wasn't the only one with certain triggers and nightmares. They were both a little broken.  
\---  
Jemma came home with a head ache. She had a few over the last few weeks. They weren't completely unusual. There had been a lot of stress in the past few weeks. Bucky had been away on a mission; Skye calls when he could manage. Normally, Jemma would notice his absence more, but with projects and papers to grade along with managing lectures, she'd been exhausted. With a sigh, Jemma dropped her large binder onto the small circular table and dropped her bag on the floor. All she wanted was a shower, food, and sleep.

The person in her bed stopped her in her tracks. It was Friday. The Friday that Bucky was to come back. There he was, still dressed, asleep in their bed. How had she managed to forget that her boyfriend was coming home? Jemma shook her head at herself. She was doing nothing this weekend, but curing up with Bucky. Sleeping, too. She needed it. Quietly, Jemma changed into her pjs. The bed dipped slightly under her weight. Jemma generally like to be the little spoon. It always felt safe. Bucky had fallen asleep right on the edge. Being the big spoon didn't seem all that bad as long as she got to sleep. Trying not to disturb him, Jemma laid down next to him. Her forehead touch his back. She fall asleep in a matter of minutes. 

They may not be perfect, but Jemma loved it all the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Jemma remembered a particularly rough night for Bucky when they weren't quite them. When them meant a couple. He invited himself over as he usually did after a nightmare. She put on Netflix, what ever show she was showing him, and tried to calm him down. Some how his head ended up her lap and her fingers combed gently through his hair. At the time he still kept it a bit long. Trimmed and neat, though. (In the present, he had it shorter.) The chemist liked it both ways so she didn't mind. His eyes still weren't his eyes. They weren't focusing. Nor were they were clear like Jemma knew them to be. So, Jemma talked to him. Calming and soothing, her hand never leaving his hair. 

“I don't know what this is.” She admitted. “You and I, we're something. We take care of each other. But we're not a couple in that sense. And right now, I'm okay with that. I'm okay if we're not something more so long as we always stay like this. Taking care of each other and being there when we the other needs it. If, by some miracle, we are something more I'm okay with that too.

“I just need you to know that I'm not okay. I'm not normal. While I haven't had as dark of a past as you, I've still experienced things I was unprepared to deal with. Nor knew the consequences of those actions. I don't always sleep; unrelated to being a night owl. Sometimes I scream and shake. I dream that I'm drowning, or falling, or trapped in something. I'm a little broken too. I hope that you don't mind it.”

“You should know that.” Jemma added after a pause.

Jemma didn't know why she dreamed of that till she woke up screaming. She didn't realize it was her own hoarse voice responsible for the noise till Bucky was gently shaking her. He was speaking. Something gentle. Her ears rang with silence. Bucky was still speaking, but her brain wasn't putting it together.

Jemma closed her eyes. Sorting through information with silence. He'd stop talking. After a few minutes, the bed dipped from where he got up. It had started with a memory. The nightmare didn't end that way. No, it ended with a flash of silver and her screams. Jemma laid there a few minutes longer. Waiting for her breathing to even out. Bucky had flipped on lights as he went. Mostly for Jemma's benefit. Most times when he got up at night, he left them off. The chemist didn't have the same sense of navigation in the dark. The lights led her to the small kitchen. With out seeing the ingredients Jemma knew it was pancakes. They were a favorite of his and a comfort to her. 

Carefully, Jemma hopped up onto the counter to watch him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. The nightmare wasn't a pleasant one. They never were. There was no point in reliving it.

“Strawberries or chocolate chips?” He asked. 

Jemma chose strawberries. Chocolate chips was his favorite addition. Sometimes Jemma enjoyed them, but she preferred strawberries. 

The benefit of dating someone with a unfair and painful past was that they knew when and when not to give some one space. Jemma still had trouble dealing with his mood swings. So, she wasn't always sure of when she needed to be comforting or to let him be. Bucky, on the other hand, generally knew when she needed him. Right now, just sitting next to him called her down. Blood was still pounding in her ears from her racing heart, but it was subsiding. 

“Was it the usual?” Bucky asked. He turned to study her face.

“Yes.” It came out just above a whisper.

It wasn't. It was worse than that. She wasn't supposed to be scared of him. Not ever. Nor had she ever been scared of him. Maybe a tiny bit frightened at times while he was her patient, but never scared. He had never given her a reason to fear him. Sure, he gave her a lot of reasons to be angry and upset. Just never scared. Bucky would never try to scare her either. A few times when he was worried he may have he apologized quickly.

Jemma didn't want to be scared of him, and she wasn't. Not because of some dream.

“Alright, doc.” Bucky gave her a smile. Jemma usually wondered if it was the one he used before he was a soldier. “Pancakes are done.”

With gentle hands, he scoped her up. Jemma smiled up at him in response.

“I believe you're spoiling me.”

“I know.” He told. Carefully, Bucky sat her down in the chair. “Eat.” The soldier urged as he took his own seat.

“As long as you eat too.” Jemma shot back. 

They both were notorious for forgetting that they needed to eat. That there bodies needed more fuel than coffee or tea. Jemma suspected it went further than that for Bucky. Only that bringing it up rose the issue of his past. She suspected, but didn't want to cause any harm by confirming. On the other hand, Jemma usually forgot to eat. Her hunger was easily ignored if there was something else to focus on. Eating a good breakfast was the one thing she made sure to get. Dinner was usually the only meal she'd be sure that Bucky ate. He drank protein shakes in the morning and lunch when she was eating it. Dinner, however, was mandatory on both sides. Lunch for Jemma was usually skipped unless some one else was eating too.

It was quiet save for forks against plates. Jemma let out a sleepy yawn after she finished. Sleeping was hard after nightmares. Though, the pancakes made her full and warm.

“What time is it?” Jemma asked as she rubbed her eyes.

“3:41.” Bucky answered. “Do ya want to go back to bed?” His question was gentle.

She nodded. “Will you be the big spoon?”

“If ya want me to be.”

Jemma collected the plates and utensils and dropped them in the sink. She'd put them away properly later.

“Promise me you'll sleep in.” Jemma told him as they walked back to the bed room. “You were gone for a week and asleep when I got home. Not a usual thing. Besides we don't have anything for the weekend. I plan on spending most of it in bed with you.”

Bucky smiled. His blue eyes shined. “I'll try my best, doc.”

Jemma tucked herself under the covers before Bucky pulled her close.

She fell asleep and stayed asleep. It was hard to tell if the same thing could be said for Bucky. He did actually try and sleep. Staying asleep was the issue. Around nine, Jemma woke up just enough to notice his arms were still wrapped around her. Around noon, Jemma woke up fully.

Turning so she faced him, Jemma found herself looking into his eyes.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Her nose scrunched up with the question

“If I said it was a romantic gesture would you be fine with it?”

“Probably not.” Jemma joked with a shrug of her shoulders. “But I'm good with letting you off the hook."

“You look peaceful when you're sleeping.” Bucky pointed out.

“So do you.” Her voice was still heavy with sleep.

They laid in bed for an hour longer. Jemma drifted in and out of sleep. Bucky simply watched her. When she woke again, he suggested a shower to which Jemma agreed to.

“ I forgot to ask last night. How was the mission?” Jemma asked from her dresser. She was looking for a pair of sweet pants.

“Fine.”

“That's not very descriptive.” She frowned at him pulling on her sweat pants as she did.

“What do you want to know, Jemma? How man injuries, deaths, etc?” His tone had gone from calm to something with an edge.

Jemma fought the urge to roll her eyes. That never made it better. 

“No. I just asked a simple question. I do like to know how the week went with you. It's not my fault your job isn't shy of blood or gore. I just wanted to know if everything went alright or not. This was one of the few times you came back with just minor scratches and bruises.”

“I know, I know.” he held his hands up in mock surrender. “I like to spare you the details sometimes. Not to say you can't handle them because I know you can. I've seen you do it. Just sometimes, if I can avoid it, I will. It went fine. It was fine. There weren't too many screw ups or injuries. Steve says hi by the way.”

“Thank you for not taking care of unnecessary risks. Or rather, I think Steve for making sure you didn't. It's a nice surprise to not have to go straight for the med kit when you get home.”

“Anytime I can help you practice stitches you know I'm your guy.”

This time Jemma rolled her eyes. “There are practice dummies for that as well as fruit. I don't need my own personal practice dummy.”

“How were your classes?” It was his turn to ask the questions.

Jemma sighed her response. The start of a new term was never fun. Schedules still needed to be sorted out. Averaging three lectures on each of her three teaching days didn't help. While also managing to eat up her time. More than she had suspected. Two weeks into term already left her exhausted. The first full three year term of agents would be graduating from the Academy and moving up to take Shield positions. Luckily, she had only one class of new students. The rest, though, was the graduating class. Everything they did now affected where they would be placed. The amount of stress she already felt was exhausting.

“Hell.” Jemma answered.

She moved to pillow her head on his arm. He was silent as he waited for her to explain.

“It's just been a lot of work. Not that I can't handle it. I'm just having a hard time adjusting to the new schedule. Give me another week and I should be used to it. The two days I have set aside for my own projects haven't even been used for it. With the soon to be agents, I've been keeping them busy with work. Trying to show them what it might be like when they become agents.”

“That's a mouthful.” He said smiling. “I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time. I'm sure your agents will do well. They got you teaching them after all.”

“Mhh.. Maybe. Can we just watch Netflix for a bit and forget our responsibilities?”

“I'd love too.”

A few hours in, and Jemma pressed her head into the crook of his arm. Another headache. Though, this time there was considerable less stress.

Shooting a worried glance, Bucky asked if she was alright.

“I'm fine. Just a headache. I've been getting them the last week and a half. It'll go away.”

“Week and half? Why haven't you mentioned it before?” Jemma knew he was asking because he was concerned, but it felt more like a demand.

“It's nothing. Promise. Can you get me aspirin please?”

When he did return, he returned with a glass of water and aspirin. He set them down before pulling her into a sitting position carefully. She tried not to groan at the movement. Though, the sound escaped her lips. 

His eyes didn't leave her as she took the pills with a sip of water.

“You should have told me.”

“They're just headaches from stress.” Jemma explained. Hoping that he would let her be.

“Are you sure?” He asked still concerned.

“Yes.”

Bucky let her settle back on the bed. Though, he kept his concerned gaze.

“It's just a headache, Bucky. I can feel you staring at me. It's unnecessary.”

Jemma reached behind her and threw a pillow at him. It was easily dodged. The throwing only made her headache worst.

His fussing didn't relax till she assured him she was fine. The fussing didn't really stop till he made her dinner too. Which wasn't something he normally did. Bucky couldn't cook very many things.

Their night was spent in bed. Just as planned. It wasn't as relaxed as she hoped for. He was still worried about her headache. Jemma was too. Just not as open about it as he was. She was quiet the rest of the night. It was easier than telling him to stop fussing. Besides, sometimes it was alright to be fussed over. He fell asleep first. As he usually did. Jemma didn't sleep for a while. Her mind kept racing, wondering why she was plagued with headaches. It was just a headache Jemma reminded herself. From stress. There wasn't anything wrong with her. She was healthy. There wasn't anything wrong with her. So why did something feel wrong? Maybe the weekend would help. One more day of laziness. That had to count for something.


End file.
